


Rarefied

by Cynthia_Silver



Series: Destiel Smut [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Beach Sex, Demon Dean Winchester, Flying, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 15:44:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3387281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cynthia_Silver/pseuds/Cynthia_Silver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The demon Dean Winchester wants some time with Castiel and asks him to come fly with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rarefied

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Coldplaying_In_The_TARDIS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coldplaying_In_The_TARDIS/gifts).



The space where Castiel’s wings should have been clawed at the back of Castiel’s mind like an animal.  Sometimes he thought he could feel them rustling, only to remember seconds later why that was an impossibility.  His remaining grace still contracted like a muscle around the nothingness to stretch long-gone wings when Cas awoke, to feel them straining against themselves and reality, and each morning Cas felt nothing but the void of having lost part of himself to the fall.

The quiet pressed in on him as he sat in his motel room, observing a sparrow on a shrub outside the window.  The little thing shivered in the frost, fluffing its wings out against the cold.  The branch on which it perched bobbed slightly under its weight.  Castiel remembered a time when he would have spoken to it, asked it where it was going, where it had been.  Now that cost too much grace.  He wondered if he would ever converse with a sparrow again, or share in its flight.

In a faint flutter, the sparrow fell down, below the window, out of sight, and Cas silently wished it well.

“Cas.”

Castiel whirled around, drawing his knife, to see Dean standing like an apparition, empty handed, on the carpet. 

“I don’t want a fight.  I just came to talk to you,” said the demon as though he were talking to a startled animal.

Cas’s blood began to pulse loudly in his ears.  “Then talk,” he growled, tense.

Dean strolled to the edge of the bed and sat, angled so that his side was to Castiel, who had not let down his guard.  “Would you believe me,” began Dean, slowly, “if I told you I’ve been getting lonely?”

“No,” Cas responded immediately, too quickly.  Dean sighed and tried again.

“It’s the truth, Castiel.  I mean,” he said with a smirk, “You find a few women, find a few guys, have a good time at night, but,” he continued, “They don’t stick around.  They don’t really care.  Hell, _I_ don’t really care, but at least I have a good excuse.   And _Crowley_ ,” Dean’s tone soured, “He’s no friend of mine.”

Fingers relaxed over the hilt of the angel blade as Castiel began to see pieces of the Dean he knew so well shining through.  “Why are you here, Dean?”  asked Cas, tired.

Dean stood up slowly and faced Cas.  “Because you miss your wings and I’m bored.”  Dean stepped closer, leaving the angel with plenty of space between them.  Castiel did not back away, though he did not loosen his grip on his weapon.  Dean rolled his eyes.  “Cas, will you put that down already?  If I wanted to kill you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”  Cas glared.  “Scouts’ honor,” said Dean, angling his head and extending his hand.

The knife clunked to the carpeted floor with a muffled thud.  After all, Castiel reasoned, he needed Dean in one piece.  The angel blade would do next to nothing to him.  He did not take Dean’s hand, however, and turned his back to Dean.  “I should call Sam.  He would-“

“Never find me,” Dean finished, something akin to hostility shocked through his voice.  “Sure, you can call him, but I’ll just annoy you until he gets here.  Is it really worth that?”  Dean questioned, a hint of the trickster in his voice.  “Or,” he said, “You could come with me.”  Silence.  Dean ghosted his hand onto Castiel’s shoulder blades.  “It could be just like old times, Cas.  You and me.” he continued softly.

Just like that, Cas bent to the temptation.  What else could he do?  Fight, and watch Dean slip away again?  He quietly damned his heart as he turned to face Dean, who was now only a foot in front of him.  He stared at Dean for a long minute.

“Well?” said Cas, dryly.  “What are you waiting for?”

Dean smiled slyly.  “Oh, just enjoying the moment.”  Dean pulled Castiel, pliant, to his chest, and Cas all but melted into the familiar warmth.  He hadn’t allowed himself to miss Dean fully until this moment.  He felt like crying, and he wasn’t sure if it was happiness, longing, sorrow, or all three that caused this turbulence within him.

Dean apparently had other things in mind.  He tilted Cas’s chin up slightly before pressing their lips together softly--  chastely, even--  and Cas would have sworn there was emotion there that he knew Dean shouldn’t be capable of feeling. 

Suddenly the ground vanished, and Cas kept his eyes shut, clinging to Dean as he felt them move in that no-space there was between the earth, heaven, and hell.  Demon flight, Cas noted, wasn’t exactly like angel flight, but it was as close as he had been in so long that he didn’t care. He couldn’t care as Dean held him tight for the first time in almost as long.  Cas opened his eyes to see the ether swirling around he and Dean in blurred colors that didn’t exist as Dean leisurely flew them to wherever it was they were going.  Cas hoped they never got there, really, as he held on to Dean much tighter than was necessary.  He thought he felt Dean squeeze him back.  It was difficult to tell with all the motion.

When finally they stopped, Cas smelled salt in the air and heard the splash of waves crashing down on themselves in the distance.  The space between them did not increase, though Cas did loosen his grip, and after a moment, he let go of Dean.  The moon glittered as it scattered shattered reflections of itself onto the ocean’s relatively calm surface, stars imitating it as best they could.  Dunes rose behind them, looking soft, surrounded by weeds and shoots swaying tranquilly in the ocean breeze.  All around there was peace.  There were no marks of civilization to be seen.

When Cas looked back at Dean, he found him staring back, an unreadable expression on his face.  He seemed to be working out something difficult, something just out of his reach.  Cas watched him for a moment, and then began walking towards the edge of the water.  Water was lapping at his shoes when he finally stopped.  A few flecks of foam managed to fling themselves onto the tail of his coat. 

There were no footprints to Dean’s new position next to Castiel.  “I think I miss you,” Dean said suddenly, his bravado completely gone, staring off into the ocean as he stood by Cas’s side.  Cas didn’t look back at Dean, only said numbly, “As do I,” before returning to their mutual silence.  The tug and push of the waves spoke for them as the moon fell to the horizon. 

A tension that wasn’t there snapped as the white disk dipped into the ocean, and Cas reached over to Dean and yanked him into him by his shirt, kissing him roughly and gripping him tight.  Dean grunted his assent into Castiel’s grasping lips, and his hands worked to pull the coat from Castiel’s shoulders as they stumbled away from the water, grunts and moans escaping them both as they licked and bit at each other.  Dean freed himself from Cas’s wandering hands long enough to drape the long coat across the sand.  Clothes soon fell in clumsy piles beside it as both men desperately grasped at each other, needing contact, the feel of skin on skin.

Dean lowered them onto the coat, guiding Castiel to sit on top of him.  They both moaned as their erections brushed, sending tingles of pleasure into them.  Dean realized in a second that neither of them would last long, and reached into his shirt pocket for a packet of lube.  Two fingers coated, Dean pulled Castiel, blue eyes blown wide, into a searing kiss and pressed into his hole with one finger.  Cas squirmed, creating delicious friction between them.  They groaned into each other’s mouths, and Dean pressed deeper, stretched wider.  Cas was aching to be filled.

A gasp escaped Cas when the second finger entered him, and he arched into it, stretching himself on Dean’s fingers.  Then Cas reached behind him to grab Dean’s wrist.  He pulled Dean’s hand away slowly, regretting the emptiness.  Dean watched every expression and licked his lips as Cas lined his hips with Dean’s.  Dean groaned as he felt Cas’s tight warmth around him, and Cas did the same as he was filled with Dean as he had been so many times before. 

When Cas was situated, Dean wrapped a slick hand around Castiel’s length and began to pump.  Cas moaned and jerked his hips, sending bolts of pleasure through them both.  Cas gripped Dean’s shoulders bruisingly and bit his lip as he tried to hold on.  Their hips found a steady back, forth, back, forth rhythm like the waves rolling beyond them.

Dean began twisting his hand and letting go, only to grab hold again and twist again, trailing his thumb around the head each time.  Dean only did this a few times before Cas, with a strangled moan, clenched around Dean, causing them both to come; one with a twist, and one with a curse shouted through grit teeth.

Spasms rocked them both for a minute before Castiel was ready to lift himself off of Dean and roll to his side, hands still draped across Dean’s shoulders.  Dean kissed Cas once more, and as their swollen lips met, Dean cleared away their mess with a thought. 

They watched the sun rise together, observing as rose and saffron shades sprawled across the deep dark blue of the night, lightening it, transforming it.  A flock of birds hovered in the distance, oblivious to the angel and the demon curled up in the sand below.  The water cared all the less as it flowed ceaselessly.

Cas was the first to get up and replace his clothing, taking his time as Dean watched, clearly enjoying the view.  When Cas tied his last shoe, he heard a snap and looked back to see Dean fully clothed, standing with Castiel’s sandy coat in hand.  Cas took it, and in a blink, nothing remained of their visit but some marks in the sand, soon to be washed away by the tide.

The flight back was short, almost instant.  Neither spoke or acknowledged the parting that had to come next.  Harsh lines of light poured in through the motel windows, the frost long melted.  Cas wanted to say something as Dean turned to leave, wanted to make him want to be human again, wanted to know if he could feel truly or if those few hours were nothing but Dean using Castiel, using his vulnerability and his body for his own pleasure and amusement.  Hadn’t he seen longing in those eyes?  Love, even?  Could that exist within Dean, within this demon, at all? There was nothing for Cas to say, except “Until next time, Dean.”

“’Till next time, Cas,” said Dean.  With a wink he was gone.


End file.
